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Unfettered
"Hadō #31, !" A spherical blast of fiery crimson energy burst forth with high speed. Nevertheless, it missed its mark as its unusually agile target jumped to the side to avoid it. The red aura of the ensuing explosion briefly illuminated a benighted, fortunately empty park. "Too slow, too slow", mocked the nimble . The somewhat large, humanoid spiritual entity with a wide, shield-like mask, four arms and a thick tail which ended in a bony club had been fighting a pair of local . Alarmed by an atypically high number of mysterious disappearances among the inhabitants of the city, they had managed to track down the culprit. Now was the time to punish it for its murderous streak. Not an easy task to accomplish. "You're never gonna catch me like that", continued the Hollow, its glowing yellow eyes narrowed in contempt. The two young Shinigami looked at each other and nodded in affirmation. The one who was holding his unsheathed Zanpakutō suddenly charged at the enemy alone. "Entwine, Tsutaurushi!", he called forth his Shikai on the move. The blade of his katana promtply extended into a long, three-pronged spiky whip which seemed to be fashioned from a plant. With a deft twist of his wrist the Shinigami swung the weapon at the Hollow, its tendrils arcing through the air with unpredictable trajectories. The opponent, whilst swift, proved unable to evade the attack completely, and one of them left a gash on one of his forearms as it struck him. "Hmph!", it snarled in response. "I'll show you how it's done, boy!" With a swooshing sound the Hollow swiped with its tail, intent on crushing the Shinigami with the heavy club. However, a single Flash Step allowed the latter to escape that fate. A crater formed in the ground where he used to be just a moment ago. Unabated, the Hollow quickly renewed the attack, now swinging the tail horizontally right after it had spotted the opponent. Still, the Shinigami evaded with another display of Shunpo only to retaliate with a lash of his own, inflicting a wound on the monster's shoulder. "Scratch me and jump around all you want, one direct hit and you're paste, Shini-", the Hollow growled, then swayed uncontrollably. At that moment it realised that the thorns which adorned the Shinigami's plant-type Shikai were in fact the delivery system of a potent, paralysing poison. Its club sped toward him more through sheer inertion than a deliberate exertion and once it predictably missed, the Hollow dragged its legs in attempt to change location. Then, it realised another thing; the second Shinigami, a long-haired woman, had been preparing another Kidō blast. "...the wrath of your claws. Hadō #33, !" "Shit!" Enfeebled, that time around the Hollow could not dodge the attack. It fell to the knees and weakly supported itself with its four arms following the impact of a direct hit, its severely burnt torso sizzling and emanating billows of smoke. Slowly, it raised its head to stare at the two cunning enemies, only for the plant whip to strike its bemasked face. The bony surface cracked. "Curse you..." But fatal damage had already been done. Soon, spiritual energy leaking from the fracture coalesced above the fallen Hollow. Sinful in both its life and afterlife, it had to suffer the consequences. With the celebration of their victory cut short, the Shinigami observed in awe as torrential wind and eerie light heralded the appearance of the Gates of . From another dimension they emerged, each giant door decorated with a partially bandaged skeleton. Paralysed and on the brink of death, the Hollow could only bawl at the inevitable. The Gates were opened, and from within a crimson abyss the blade of a extended toward the sinner. Effortlessly, it impaled its quivering body and lifted it from the ground. Then, it began receding unhurriedly, wielded by the muscular left arm of the giant guardian. The pair of speechless Shinigami frowned at the Hollow's wailing, aware what was happening but having witnessed the disturbing process for the first time. And then, without a warning, all the noise was drowned out by an earth-shaking, vibrating hum. The emerald aura superseded by vivid pink light as what seemed to be a thick beam of black energy erupted from within the Gates. The arm, the blade and the Hollow impaled upon it all vanished within that black, reality-distorting pillar of energy. The Shinigami widened their eyes in bewilderment. All that was left were the broken, smouldering remains of the Gates, the fiery abyss within, and a single cloaked figure which had appeared inside in the blast's wake. "W-what's going on, Haruto? Is that supposed to happen?" "I have no clue, Fuyuko..." Meanwhile, the mysterious newcomer exited the Gates, floating in the air as if he were completely weightless. All the while the heavily damaged doors shattered into a thousand pieces and faded away, he nonchalantly descended to the ground. Tall, lean, and clad in a worn white cloak fastened with large silver clasps, and a hood concealing his face. The only visible parts of his body were his long, fairly muscular arms, his hands stuck in the pockets of his white trousers. Understandably, the two Shinigami were apprehensive. They had heard of the sinister and it seemed that they encountered one of them. A dangerous runaway from the Hell itself. "You... identify yourself!", demanded Haruto after a moment's hesitation, wielding his Shikai in preparation for the worst. "Hoooh?", uttered the cloaked man in response, only now seeming to notice the pair. "So, you're the guys who've fucked up that Hollow, eh? Good job. I've been trying to escape for a while now but just couldn't find the opportunity... but finally, here I am! Thanks a lot!" The man outstretched his arms in obvious excitation, prompting the two Soul Reapers to wince. They could not sense his at all, although there was something profoundly disturbing about him. Still, they were on a mission which clearly had not been finished yet, so they braced themselves and decided to fulfil their duty regardless of the unexpected complication. "Who are you? Answer me!", ordered Haruto with all the resolution he could muster, which was unfortunately not that much. The hooded figure chortled. "People have called me many names. The Scourge of , the Tormentor, the Unfettered King... I am the one and only magnificent, unbeatable, illustrious Sakaala!" Following the rather histrionic reveal there was an uncomfortable silence. The two Shinigami looked at each other, equally confused, and the newcomer slumped visibly when he perceived no recognition in their eyes. "What, you haven't heard of me? You guys live under a rock or something? You– wait a minute", Sakaala stroked his chin whilst looking around. Apart from some signs of the earlier battle, they were currently in an ordinary park located in the middle of an ordinary Japanese town. There were lanterns, benches, bins, pavement, a bridge over a pond. Multiple-storey buildings loomed all around them, many of their windows illuminated from within, and a single aeroplane was flying high above, in the distance. "Would you look at that... It's the , isn't it?", the cloaked man inquired without waiting for a reply. "Damn, things have changed a lot since the last time I was here..." "What should we do? Can we apprehend him?", whispered Fuyuko. "I'm not sure we're strong enough... You go fetch some reinforcements, I'll keep him busy in the meantime", responded Haruto quietly. "No way, I'm not leaving you alone..." "Reinforcements, you say?", asked Sakaala, suddenly standing right in front of them and leaning forward. The two were startled by that alarmingly swift approach, to say the least. They had seen no movement nor heard a sound; the unusually tall man was more than a dozen metres away from them one moment, and right beside them another. Instinctively, they used Shunpo to retreat and regain some distance. The fugitive from Hell chuckled again. "Bakudō #30, !", reacted Fuyuko to the perceived threat, launching the three-pronged binding spell after performing the necessary gesture. However, as the yellow energy wedges were about to strike her target, they all simply vanished without a trace. Dissolved in the air. Seeing that, the male Shinigami swung his Zanpakutō with considerable impetus. Similarly ineffective, the triple plant-based whip somehow moved harmlessly around Sakaala, as if he were protected by some invisible force field bubble. Virtually motionless, standing there with his hands tucked inside his pockets. The lower part of his face now visible from beneath the hood to reveal a wide, ominous grin. "I'm grateful that you let me out, really", he said in a calm voice with a hint of something that sent shivers down the spines of his unwitting saviours. "I s'ppose I could let you go, but then you'd tell everyone and spoil the fun. I mean, it's obviously been quite a while, so I wanna return in style. Tough luck, guys." "Go, Fuyuko! Go now!", shouted Haruto whilst preparing to attack once more, in vain or not. The Kidō specialist bit her lip, but reluctantly motioned to leave. However, that would not come to pass. There was a brief whizz and the two Shinigami froze simultaneously, their faces locked in expressions of great shock. For a moment a flickering, impossibly black arc formed in the air, only to fade away shortly. And then their immaculately decapitated heads fell to the ground, followed by limp bodies. Pools of blood quickly formed upon the well-groomed grass, slowly absorbed by the soil beneath. "Bye-bye", uttered Sakaala whilst waving with his right hand, and twirling a khopesh that had appeared out of the blue with the left one. He let go of the hilt. With a barely audible hum the blade vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. After inspecting the surroundings once more, the mysterious runaway levitated into the air. From above he watched the many concrete buildings, mechanical vehicles driving along the streets, people clad in weird clothes going their way, blissfully ignorant of what had transpired a moment ago. He descended among them to take a closer look. Watched signs, posters, peeked into the shops through their windows. Everything was so different, so new. He was perfectly aware that he had spent a long, long time in Hell. But how long, exactly? "Daaamn", he murmured whilst hopping on the roof of a bus, only to start hovering in the air again. "I can hardly recognise any of this shit. Must've been a few centuries for sure. I wonder, how's the Soul Society doing?", he continued talking to himself whilst inspecting the city and its contents. "They probably got some new Captains... is the still their pack leader? Hmm... is Ken-chan still around?", he mused with a dark smirk. Ultimately, he landed on top of a tall building. He rotated on one of his legs to behold the panorama, then slanted and let out a protracted sigh. "I mean, how long can you keep fighting those losers and the fucking Kushanāda? Fire and lava, dust and ash, endless wastelands, same shit all the bloody time. But this... after all this time..." He took off the hood to reveal his pale, serpentine face, inhaled the air untainted by miasma. His platinum blond hair reached below his shoulder blades in a braid. His cool grey eyes scanned the area with morbid glee. There was a partial bony mask, not unlike one from an opera, stuck to the right side of his face. Pink stars upon his left cheek. A small, yet easily noticeable hole piercing the base of his throat. The unmistakable traits of an . Not just any Arrancar but a self-made one, an anomaly, abnormal monster from the dark past of the Soul Society. "Hooooh, I can't even imagine all the possibilites", he said, baring his rather sharp teeth in a wide grin. "So many new things to discover, old places to revisit, schemes to think up and people to break... oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! This is fucking great!" Peals of laughter resounded atop the building, unheard by anyone. Louder, more aggressive with each passing moment. Indicative of relief, expectation, exhilaration. The unsettling laughter of a sadistic maniac finally free of his chains, unshackled. Unfettered. "I'M FUCKING BACK, BITCHES!", he roared. He threw his arms in the air and unleashed his power. There was a flash, and a thunder. Distinctly pink-tinted light immersed the building, city block, the whole town in its garish glow. Shattered windows, broke walls, immolated trees, obliterated cars, burnt flesh off the bones of unsuspecting inhabitants. The ground trembled mightily, torrential winds swept across the area. The pink light illuminated the night with the intensity of the Sun, if momentarily. Eventually, the glow subsided, and all that was left was nothing. An impeccable crater carved into the earth where a town used to be just moments ago. Silence, and heat. And a single figure suspended high in the air, in the centre of that spectacle of wanton devastation. "This is gonna be fun", proclaimed Sakaala, panting because of barely contained excitation more than exertion. Flickering opened in front of him. After all, the Living World, even if drastically changed, had little to offer. It was the Spiritual Realms where the truly interesting stuff awaited him. An infinite source of entertainment, a madman's vast playground. So that he left, just like that. The disaster of his make merely a portent of things to come. The Unfettered King has returned. End of Chapter Category:Fanfiction